


Sera Doesn't Share

by valammar



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Backstory, Drabble, F/F, Female Characters, Mild Sexual Content, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valammar/pseuds/valammar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sera keeps her most precious things to herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sera Doesn't Share

Sera doesn’t share.

In Denerim, outside of a favored confectionery, Sera hid and waited. The fatty smell of butter and cream made her feel faint. Her stomach ached, piercing cramps sending shudders through her arms and legs. Day-in and day-out, merchants and nobles alike came and went, stuffing their plump faces with tarts, cookies and filled pastries, so careless in their gorging that they’d ignore the stray bits that fell to the ground. Dumb sods. No matter – their wastefulness was what Sera was after. 

Once the roads were clear and the guards made their patrol, that’s when she scavenged. Taking out a worn linen cloth, she’d poke through the dirt for crumbs: a bit of pie crust here – a little muddy but it’ll do – a cherry that had fallen out of a pastry there. Wrapping her minuscule morsels in the cloth, she’d skulk quietly through the alleyway, small and out of sight, retreating to her home behind a rotted lumber pile to eat in safety. No one can see her. If she’s caught by guards, it’s back to the alienage. If she’s caught by people as hungry as she, there’s a chance they’d try to take it. And Sera doesn’t share.

Her first love was Emilie, a servant of Lady Emmauld. They barely spoke, but Sera would watch her polish the silver. She was tall for a girl – Sera liked that – with a button nose that crinkled when she was concentrating and slender fingers. She wondered what they would feel like caressing her back, her stomach, her thighs. She never shared with her how she felt. When Emilie announced she was leaving Lady Emmauld’s service because she got engaged, Sera wanted to find the prick who was stealing her away and shove a hot poker up his arse. 

She didn’t share the truth with Yasmine when the qunari asked her the secret to her archery prowess. Another Jenny put her first bow in her hands, placed her on an “X” drawn in the mud and pointed at a bale of hay for her to shoot. Left foot forward, feet shoulder width apart, chin up, hips tucked, and focus. She took a deep breath and let her first arrow fly. Not bad. Turned out she was a natural. All she did was think of everyone that pissed her off: one arrow for the Denerim guards, bunch of pricks; one each for all those fat faces stuffing themselves on pastries outside the confectionery while people lay starving just a street over; one for that arsehole that took Emilie away – bet he’s fat, too. Her anger, that’s what made it so easy. That’s what still makes it so easy, but she’ll never tell. 

Sera doesn’t share her Yas. They can have their Herald, but the real Yasmine Adaar was just for her. The real Yas, tall, strong yet soft - with her hair down and sticking to her face and neck as her horns pressed against the wooden bedframe; almond eyes half-lidded as Sera massaged soft circles against her pelvis. The real Yas, who tastes sweeter and richer than any pastry, who quivers harder beneath her fingers than her first bow. The real Yas, her Honey Tongue. No one is going to take Yas away from her. Sera plays for keeps.

And Sera doesn’t share.


End file.
